


Believe In Life (After Love After Love After Love)

by wittynametbd



Series: Gods, Heroes, and Losers [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Canon never bothered me anyway, I hope, I'm just kidding it did so here we are, Let's add some greek myths to this mess and get cooking, M/M, i think, so like you'll suffer but you'll be happy about it, there's gonna be a lot of angst, who doesn't love a good orpheus/eurydice retelling?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-13 13:30:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20583290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wittynametbd/pseuds/wittynametbd
Summary: He knew the story well enough. A lost love. A trip through the Underworld.It didn’t end well.But that washisstory. Not Richie’s.OR when Richie's offered a chance to rescue Eddie from the underworld, he takes it.





	1. What Am I Supposed To Do?

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies if this has been done before! I really love Orpheus/Eurydice and I figured I'd give Richie a chance to get his dumbass boyfriend out of the underworld. 
> 
> Plus, I'd already written one sad, realistic fic about the fallout of It Chapter 2 so now we're gonna have some fun and they will be happy, at the end of this, damnit!
> 
> Also, check this poem out for a bit of the inspiration behind this story--particularly this part:
> 
> _if you could_  
_retell the tale wouldn’t you want_  
_to tell it kinder? wouldn’t you_  
_want to give them peace, even love,_  
_where you could?_
> 
> https://poemsforpersephone.tumblr.com/post/145021756099/what-if-when-icarus-fell-apollo-caught-him-before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Richie goes to karaoke

Richie threw back another shot. He wasn’t drunk. Not yet. But he was well on his way. He winced as the cheapest vodka in the place worked its way down his throat. 

There was a time when his best friend would be by his side, warning him about how low-shelf vodka could wind up damaging his esophagus. 

But that was before everything went to shit. Before he lost Eddie. 

Before he hated the world, and everything in it, because Eddie Kaspbrak was dead, and he wasn’t coming back. 

Richie waved the bartender down, getting another shot of the only thing that could help him forget. He hated that, too. That this time, even if he wanted to, he couldn't forget what happened. _None_ of them forgot what happened. So, he carried those memories with him every day. The guilt, the anger, the despair. 

And, sometimes, the fear. He threw the shot back. If that fucking clown was still around, he’d love how afraid Richie was of facing a world where Eddie Kaspbrak wasn’t there to be at his side. 

He put the shot glass on the table, passing it back and forth between both hands. He knew he should cut himself off. He’d had more than enough to be able to forget for tonight. But it was also Tuesday, which meant karaoke at The Bar None was in full-swing. And, unfortunately for Richie, someone was in the middle of Cher’s “Believe.”

He groaned as the chorus kept repeating _Life after love after love after love_ and the artificial synth beats blared around him. He’d only ever had one love, and that love was gone. 

Cher was wrong. There was nothing after that. 

“You look a little lost,” a man said, sliding into the chair next to him. “Need help finding something?”

Richie didn’t even look at him. There was a time, before, before, before, when he would’ve flirted back. Enjoyed it just a bit. 

Instead, he flagged the bartender down and got another shot. 

The man placed a hand on Richie’s arm. “You gonna sing anything tonight?”

Richie pulled his arm away, focusing only on the new shot that was placed in front of him. He downed it, vodka searing through him like acid eating through metal. “I don’t sing,” he said, still not bothering to look at the man. 

“But you’ve been on the stage before. You’re no stranger to having a crowd’s attention. Are you, Richie Tozier?”

Richie stiffened at his name. _Great_. Someone looking for Richie Trashmouth Tozier, that stupid persona he had no interest in ever revisiting. “Sorry,” he said, getting up from the table. “Not really in a funny mood tonight.”

The stranger grabbed his arm again, but this time, it was different. His touch was ice cold. It was then, only then, that Richie looked at the man. His eyes were a startlingly bright shade of yellow. Something he’d seen once before. 

Richie staggered back, breaking free of the man’s grasp. This wasn’t real. They killed It. They killed that fucking clown, and Eddie was dead, and Richie was probably passed out drunk somewhere. 

This was just a shitty, fucked-up dream. 

“You’re not real,” Richie muttered, eyes darting wildly around to find anything to defend himself with. “You’re dead! We killed you!”

He screamed the words, catching himself and looking around at everyone else in the bar. He’d done this once before—yelled at a kid in a restaurant who was _definitely_ real and not an evil clown. If he’d made the same mistake again…

But everyone in the bar was frozen. Except for him and the man with the yellow eyes. 

The man sighed, shaking his head. “You’re only right about one of those things, sadly. I’m very real. And very dead. But you didn’t kill me, Richie Tozier. I’m afraid I lived a little… before your time.” The man smirked at that. “Maybe more than a little. I’ve stopped keeping track, to be honest.”

Richie took a step back, knocking into a frozen bar patron. He turned around, apologizing before he remembered that they couldn’t feel it. Or maybe they weren’t real, too. 

This could still be a shitty dream. He had time to wake up. 

Or, alternatively, if they’d failed to kill It… if Pennywise really _was_ here, with him, alone…

Well. Then at least he’d see Eddie soon. 

The man with the yellow eyes held his hands up, trying at a peaceful gesture. He was in a finely tailored suit. Had bronze skin that glowed in the bar’s dim light. And was kind of hot, if he was being honest. 

There was something _dangerous_ about him. But not in the way that It was dangerous. 

Pennywise preyed on people’s fears. 

_You look a little lost_, the man had said. _Need help finding something?_

This man, whoever he was… it wasn’t fear that he wanted. It was desire. And recklessness. Chances and risks and everything that Eddie would’ve hated in this world. 

“Who are you?” Richie asked. 

The man nodded toward the stage. “There was a time when we weren’t so different. I used to be a singer…well, more of a musician, really. You know… back in the day.” He winked as he said the last part. As if this should be enough to clue Richie into what was happening. 

But he was also six shots of acidic vodka deep at this point, so his critical thinking skills weren’t particularly up to snuff. 

Eddie would’ve quipped that they were never up to snuff to begin with, but he wasn’t here, was he? 

Richie winced. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “The Classics weren’t always The Classics. Back then, we just knew it as life.” He shrugged, making his way to the stage. “I’m here because an interested party has a deal for you, Richie Tozier. There’s a piece of you missing. We’d like to help you find it.”

“How?” Richie asked. He knew it was stupid to stay. That he should be running out of that place, screaming for help, calling the other Losers to make sure he hadn’t lost it completely. But there was a part of him that knew who the man was. Even if he couldn’t figure out his name. 

He knew the story well enough. A lost love. A trip through the Underworld. 

It didn’t end well.

But that was _his_ story. Not Richie’s. 

The man snapped his fingers, and “Believe” started to play again. “You sure you don’t want to sing?” He asked him, as the song’s intro started. 

Richie swallowed. “_Orpheus_,” he said, loudly, clearly, and more soberly than he thought he was capable of. “How do I find him?”

“You have to answer one question first.”

“What?!?” he screamed as the words to the first verse filled the screen. 

_No matter how hard I try, you keep pushing me aside_

“What are you willing to do in order to get him back?”

_But I can’t get through. There’s no talking to youuuuu._

“Anything,” Richie replied. 

_It’s so saaaaad that you’re leaving. It takes tiiiiiime to believe it._

Orpheus smiled, but there was no warmth behind his eyes. Only sadness. And then he sang, “But after all is said and done, you’re gonna be the lonely one…”

The Bar None faded away as the song—and Orpheus—started the chorus. 

_Do you believeeeee in life after love (after love after love after love)._

A cold chill wrapped around him. 

Everything became blurry. Heaviness weighed him down, clouding his thoughts. Silver dots filled his vision. 

And then Richie threw up all six shots of vodka, promptly passing the fuck out right after.


	2. Sit Around and Wait For You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Richie learns the terms of his arrangement... and meets a dog!

Something wet dripped onto Richie Tozier’s face. It hit his forehead first, then his cheek. He groaned, rolling onto his side as he slowly opened his eyes and everything around him came into focus. 

He was in a cave. Or, at least, that’s what it looked like. He couldn’t be certain that any of this was real. For all he knew, he was just passed out at The Bar None, like he’d been every other Tuesday since he’d gotten back from Derry. 

He could just be in a shitty dream. But, if it _was_ a dream, it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. 

Torches lined the cave’s walls, casting a small bit of light on the gray rocks that surrounded him. The chamber he was in was about the same size as some of the larger theaters he performed in—and, like those theaters, it also had a very distinct smell. 

Like… wet dog. 

Richie wiped at his face, grimacing as his fingers grazed the liquid on his forehead and cheek. Probably just water from one of the stalagmites. Stalactites? He could never remember which ones were the dangly rocks and which ones were the firmly in the ground rocks. 

He sat up, using some of his shirt to clean his glasses. He sighed, put them back on, and froze.

Something dripped onto the back of his neck.

But, unlike last time, a low growl accompanied it. 

_Wet dog_, he thought, as the hairs on his arms all stood on end. _Why would there be a wet dog?_

He turned, following the sound of the growl, even though he knew he’d regret finding the source.

Richie hated that he was right. 

A dog that was almost as big as the cavern was lurched in front of him, teeth bared. But it wasn’t any ordinary, friendly, oversized dog. 

_Why would it be?_

This dog had three heads. And none of them were particularly happy to see Richie. 

“Uhhh, hey…puppy. How’s it going?”

The dog growled. One of its heads snapped at Richie. He jumped out of the way, falling over himself as he scrambled to get out of its reach. 

As the dog readjusted, Richie saw a door waiting for him on the opposite wall. 

_Of course it had to be over there_, he thought, sending a silent _Fuck You!_ to Orpheus. He couldn’t have dropped Richie off closer to the door. Or warn him about the giant, vicious dog that was about to make Richie his next meal. 

Richie frowned. He supposed that old saying was right. Maybe the devil really _was_ in the details. 

“What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” Richie asked, throwing his hands up in the air. “A little help would be nice!” 

He had no idea if someone was listening. But he figured it was more likely than not. Orpheus said that _‘we’_ were interested in helping him. So, unless the musician had an inflated sense of self, there had to be at least one other person who was in on this. 

Whatever _this_ was. 

After he finished screaming at nothing in particular, he saw a bigass pile of bones. Richie’s stomach wretched, and he wondered if he was going to throw up again. But then he remembered that he threw everything up before he wound up in this cave, so the best he’d be able to do was dry heave. 

Which he did, on his way to the bones. 

The dog watched him, growling, but not making a move. Richie wasn’t sure how many people were in this pile. It was hard to tell, since none of the bones were connected anymore. 

He grabbed one of the bones from the top of the pile—maybe it was a femur. He had no fucking clue. And he did the only thing he could think of: he chucked it as far away from that door as he could. 

The dog blinked at him, tilting its head. 

_Okay_, he thought, digging through the pile. _Not that one._

He tried a few more bones—oddly enjoying the moment he picked up a skull and yelled “To be or not to beeeeeee” as he threw it in the same direction as all the others. But the dog remained unmoved. 

“Damn it!” he yelled, sitting down next to the pile. The whole point to this had been to find Eddie. To bring him back. And he couldn’t even do that. 

Richie Tozier couldn’t save Eddie Kaspbrak whether he was dead or alive. 

He was such a fucking loser. 

He thrust his hand into the pile of bones, knocking more layers away with a few more swears. And then he saw something dark red glinting near the bottom of the pile. 

He dug it out, holding it in the torchlight. It was a bone, but it was covered in jewels. Garnet, maybe, from how deeply maroon they were. And it smelled like… pomegranate? 

All of the dog’s heads let out a playful whimper. The animal arched its back into the air, wagging its massive tail as it waited for him to throw the damn thing. 

Richie obliged, throwing it so far that he felt the muscles in his arm rebel at the action. But it worked. The three-headed dog raced away, and Richie raced toward the door. 

He yanked it open, jumping through the door and slamming it shut as the sound of a dog gnashing on a jewel-encrusted bone filled the cavern. 

“What the fuck?” Richie muttered, catching his breath as he leaned against the door. 

He decided that if this was a dream, he was never using his imagination for anything ever again. 

“Anything else you want to tell me about?” Richie screamed at the air. “Got any more giant killer pets waiting through another door?”

Nothing responded. Instead, the torches in the room grew brighter, illuminating a man standing a few feet away, with his back turned to him. 

He was still in the same clothes he died in. Though they were a lot cleaner now. 

Richie had only caught his breath moments before. And now, it was knocked out of him completely. 

“Eds?” Richie asked. Eddie Kaspbrak turned around and Richie almost passed out again. He was close. He was _so close_ to Richie. And he looked just like he did when they were all in the restaurant. Before everything fell to shit for a second time. No stab wounds in the chest. Or face. 

And, Richie thought smugly, way hotter than Orpheus. 

Eddie stood there, mouth hanging open. “Oh, shit.”

Richie blinked, pushing his glasses up the ridge of his nose. Oh, shit was right. What if this wasn’t what Eddie wanted? Maybe he liked it down here. Up here? Around… here. Wherever the hell they were. His heart sank at the thought. Richie never told him how he felt because he didn’t want to lose him. He wouldn’t be able to handle the rejection. 

And now, he was facing the feelings he’d spent his whole life running away from. Only now, those feelings came with a three-headed dog on the other side of the door.

Richie let out a nervous laugh as he stood frozen in place. “Is that a good ‘oh, shit?’ Or an ‘I should turn around and pretend this never happened’ oh, shit?”

Eddie shook his head, laughing as he ran toward him. “It’s a ‘you interrupted me while I was fucking your mom’ oh, shit.”

“But she’s still alive—” Richie wasn’t able to finish the rest of his thought. Eddie pulled him into a tight embrace, weaving his fingers through Richie’s hair. 

When Eddie spoke, his voice was right in his ear. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

Tears pooled in the corners of Richie’s eyes. Eddie was _here_, but his breath wasn’t hot on Richie’s ear. Hell, he wasn’t even _breathing_. He was still dead, and Richie was still alive, but none of that mattered at the moment because Eddie Kaspbrak was holding him and said that he never thought he’d see him again. 

Richie buried his face in Eddie’s shoulder, knocking his glasses completely off as he sobbed. “I’m sorry,” he said, when he could breathe long enough to get any kind of coherent words out. “It’s my fault.”

“No, it's not,” Eddie said, stroking his hair as he soothed him. “I hope you weren’t out there beating yourself up over it, asshole. It was never your fault.”

But that only made Richie sob even harder. “If I hadn’t looked into the Deadlights—”

“Then I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to save you. I was a badass.”

“I told you that you were braver than you thought.”

“I was. And I needed to hear it.”

“I left you alone in that cave.”

“Shhh,” Eddie said, squeezing him tighter. “If you stayed with me, you would’ve died, too. I didn’t want that.” He paused, pushing Richie away so that he was at arms-length. “And I still don’t. You’re not dead, Rich. _How_ are you here?”

Richie sniffled, wishing Eddie would pull him closer again. “Would you believe me if I said I had a wild night at karaoke?”

The few torches around them flickered brightly for a moment, and then the flames turned into a cool blue. 

“He’s here,” a voice boomed in the darkness, “because my wife has a soft spot for tragic love.”

Richie squinted at the shadows around them. But like, really squinted, because his glasses were somewhere on the floor. Whoever was speaking didn’t sound like Orpheus. He was probably still at the bar, belting more Cher. Or ABBA. He seemed like an ABBA kinda guy. 

“Ugh,” Eddie said, handing Richie his glasses. “Tragic? Really? Is that the only label we’re getting, here?”

Richie noticed that Eddie hadn’t objected to the love part. But he also figured there was a time and a place to bring that up. This didn’t seem like either of those scenarios. Besides, Eddie seemed to have this under control. 

So, for the first time that he could remember, Richie Tozier shut up and let Eddie Kaspbrak do all the talking. 

“You don’t have to put on a show for him,” Eddie said, waving at Richie. “He’s a comedian.”

A light laugh sounded from the darkness. “You’ll have to forgive my husband,” a woman’s voice said. It was sweet, and sharp, and Richie had the feeling that if he sat here picking it apart for too long he might wind up staying down here forever. “He can be a bit dramatic sometimes.”

Two figures stepped out of the shadows. The man was in a suit that was way better than what Orpheus had been wearing. He was pale, slightly taller than Richie, and had the same yellow eyes as every other dangerous thing Richie Tozier had ever encountered. 

The woman’s skin was dark, and her hair was loose in a lot of tight curls. She wore a dress that was a very vibrant shade of maroon, and had her hand wrapped in the crook of the man’s arm. 

Richie longed to do the same thing with Eddie. But he couldn’t move. 

Eddie gave the woman a small smile. “This one can, too,” he replied, gesturing to Richie. 

“Hey,” both Richie and the man replied at the same time. 

“Not cool, dude,” Richie said. 

“Dramatic, Persephone? Really?” the man said, chuckling afterward. 

_Persephone._ It’d been nothing short of a miracle earlier when Richie pulled Orpheus’s name out of his ass. He’d never really cared about Greek Mythology. Or any mythology that didn’t have to do with comic books, if he was being honest. But he remembered enough to realize who he was talking to. 

_An interested party has a deal for you_, Orpheus had said. If he ever met him again, Richie resolved to punch the musician in the face.  
He was standing in a room with the dead love of his life and the rulers of the Underworld. Persephone and Hades. 

Interested party, his ass. 

No matter what story he heard, he knew that the gods had no interest in helping people. Just fucking with them. 

Hades tilted his head, sizing Richie up. “Before you go making assumptions, you should know that the stories they tell about me are, for the most part, half-truths. You’d know something about that. Wouldn’t you, Richie Tozier?”

Richie glared at the man. No, at _Hades_. “Yeah, we get it, I’m gay. Can we just cut to the chase, already? How do we get out of here?”

It wasn’t until he finished asking his question that Richie realized what he’d done. The other Losers all knew… he told them after they’d all held him that day as he sobbed over losing Eddie. 

But he’d never said it around Eddie. His heart beat way too fast as he turned around to face his best friend. 

Too many emotions flashed across Eddie’s face for Richie to process. But Richie knew how he felt, now that he’d finally let the mostly-obvious cat out of the bag. 

Grief for the life they could’ve had. And hope for one that still could come. 

Eddie moved next to Richie, holding his hand. Richie’s mouth hung open as Eddie gave his hand a squeeze. 

Richie always dreamed of what would happen if Eddie liked him back. But he never thought it would happen. 

And certainly not like this. 

“We’d like the answer,” Eddie said, without fear in his voice. Richie’s heart swelled with pride. This was who he was always meant to be. 

Hades and Persephone exchanged a glance. And then the Lord of the Underworld nodded. “It’s quite simple, really: you walk.”

Richie blinked, thinking about the dog on the other side of the door. “That’s it?”

Persephone shrugged. “That’s it. But there are certain… caveats, I’m afraid.”

Hades cleared his throat. “Richard Tozier, you will lead Edward Kaspbrak out of the Underworld. But Edward must remain behind you the entire time. You may speak with each other, but you will not be able to touch.”

“You also cannot look back to see if he’s still following you,” Persephone added. “If you look behind you at any time, Eddie will remain here, and you will return to the land of the living empty-handed.”

Richie squinted at the gods. “All I have to do is not look back?”

“It sounds simple,” Hades replied. “And yet, none before you have succeeded.”

“Including Orpheus,” Persephone chimed in. “He spends his days trying to find someone who will finally break the cycle. He longs for a happy ending to a story that he was never able to get.”

“It’s why he sent you here,” Hades said. “To us.”

Richie looked at Eddie. Determination burned in his best friend’s eyes. But Richie still wasn’t sure any of this was real. 

“So…this’ll work,” Richie asked, “if I make it to the end without turning around, Eddie can come with me? He’ll be… alive… again?”

Hades raised an eyebrow. “If you believe it will, then yes, it will work.” 

“You’re not just trying to add more souls to your collection?” Richie asked. He probably shouldn’t have. Something told him that angering a god might not go his way. 

Persephone let go of her husband’s hand, moving to stand in front of Richie. She placed a hand on his forehead, speaking only to him. 

_There has been too much tragedy in your life already. We do not wish to add to it._

And with her words came so many emotions that Richie’s hand slipped out of Eddie’s grasp. He fell to his knees, sobbing, as all the loss and pain, the anger and frustration, pushed to the front of his mind. 

“We will be true to our word,” Hades said. “Best of luck, Richie Tozier.”

“Cerebus will let you pass,” Perspehone said, offering Richie her hand. He took it, and she helped him stand up. 

“Cerebus?” he asked. 

“The dog, dumbass,” Eddie said. Richie couldn’t help but smile. It really was him. 

“Sorry, I didn’t pay attention during Nerd 101,” Richie quipped back. 

Persephone smiled. “Once you go through the door, you won’t be able to turn around. Memorize his face, now. It will help you get through the darkest of times.”

Richie nodded. He held Eddie close, taking in all the familiar details of his best friend—and the new ones that’d come with age. How his forehead was always a little creased. How wonderfully, deeply brown his eyes were. And the way he smiled when Richie looked at him. 

“Succeed where everyone else has failed,” Persephone said, planting a small kiss on Richie’s forehead. 

Richie nodded, taking Eddie’s hand as they made their way toward the door. He took a deep breath, turning to face his best friend one last time. 

“You ready for this?” Richie asked. 

“As ready as your mom was the first time we—”

Persephone cleared her throat. Although Eddie was dead, and had no way of blushing, Richie could’ve sworn that a small bit of color raced through his cheeks at that. 

“The door,” she said, as it opened. “It’s time.”

Richie sighed, pulling Eddie into a hug. “See you on the other side.”

“Literally,” Eddie replied. 

Richie smiled as he stepped through the door. And, for the first time in a long time, it was so genuine and bright that it could’ve given the torchlights a run for their money. 

His world ended when he lost his best friend. But now he had the chance to change everything. 

He wouldn’t look back, no matter how much he wanted to. 

Richie thought about everyone who’d tried this before. There had to be something Hades and Persephone were holding back. After all, Hades was right. It was all just... so simple. There was no reason for so many people to fail. 

He wished he’d asked Orpheus why he turned around. He didn’t want to make the same mistake.

Richie’s heart filled with dread as the door closed behind them. He thought it could do it. 

But he wasn’t better than anyone who came before him. What made him so different?

“Richie?” Eddie said, from somewhere behind him. “I think the goal is to move forward and, you know, get _out_ of this place.”

Richie chuckled, moving through the cavern where Cerebus was now sleeping. Determination pushed him along, stuffing the doubt into a corner of his mind that he tried his best to ignore. 

If anything went wrong, Eddie would be behind him the whole time. He could do this. 

But only if Eddie stayed with him.


	3. Well I Can't Do That.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eddie has a secret...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I should be writing my book but this is way more fun and is healing my soul after the movie destroyed it, so here we are

Eddie Kaspbrak had no explanation for how any of this is possible. 

He was dead. It was a simple concept to grasp. An easy one. He died saving Richie from Pennywise, and if he had to choose, he’d do it over and over again. 

Because there was no choice involved in the matter. A world without Richie was something Eddie never wanted to experience. 

Well, _again_, anyway. There’d been that whole ‘forgetting everything about Derry’ issue that certainly complicated matters. But there were things that’d always stuck with Eddie.

At the time, he had no idea what those things were. Until he heard a certain comedian deliver horrible jokes, and he wondered if there was any way for him to improve his act. He always thought Richie Trashmouth Tozier was better than the jokes he delivered. 

And now, he was so relieved that he was right. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” Richie asked. 

Eddie hesitated, not sure how to reply. _Oh, nothing, just about how if you turn around we’re totally screwed_. Not the best boost to Tozier’s confidence levels, so probably not the best thing to say. 

Maybe he could go with, _This shouldn’t be happening at all. Why is this happening?!?_ No, that definitely wouldn’t help anything. It’d just freak Richie out, and the more panicked he was, the more likely he was to turn around. 

“Eds?” Richie replied, uncertainty coloring his name. Eddie winced. He couldn’t fuck this up. He was already fucking this up. 

_Fuck._

Finally, Eddie replied, “Didn’t expect you to go to karaoke.”

_Jesus_.

Richie stopped. Eddie almost ran into him. 

Well, if he could. But that wasn’t possible. Not right now, anyway. 

"What?"

“You told me you had a wild night at karaoke,” Eddie said. “And you should keep going, Rich.”

“Right,” Richie said, clearing his throat as he started to walk again. “I don’t sing. I just listen. But most of the time I’m too drunk to do that, so I’m mostly just there for the shitty vodka.”

“That stuff can burn your esophagus,” Eddie said.

Richie laughed. “Yeah, well, up until tonight it really didn’t matter.”

It was Eddie’s turn to stop moving. He’d made peace with the fact that he was dead. It hurt to know that Richie hadn’t been able to do that—that even when he saved his life, even when he wasn’t around anymore, Eddie Kaspbrak was still causing Richie Tozier pain. 

He never wanted anything to hurt Richie. That’s how he wound up dead in the first place. But if this worked…if he really _could_ get out of here, and be alive again…

Then _he_ could hurt Richie. Like, _actually_ hurt him, if he fucked it up. He’d never mean to, of course. For all of the _I hate yous_ Eddie ever threw at his best friend, there was never any weight behind them. 

If anything, the person he hated right now was himself. 

He hated how he wasted so many years with Myra. How he’d been scared to be who he truly was. 

How he hadn’t been able to tell Richie how he felt before he died. 

And now Richie was right here, trying so hard to keep looking forward. Eddie wanted to tell him how he felt. Scream it at him until he understood. 

But he knew that if he told Richie any of that, his best friend would turn around. 

Richie rounded a corner and Eddie raced to keep up. That was another thing he just fucked up. He couldn’t leave him alone. He had to be there when Richie needed him. 

“How long have I been gone?” Eddie asked, immediately regretting the question. He wanted to change the subject, but he’d only veered partially off-course.

Richie’s shoulders tensed, but he kept moving. “Two years. You missed Ben and Bev’s wedding.”

_Two years_. If Eddie still had the ability to feel nauseous, he might’ve thrown up on the spot. His friends got married, and he wasn’t there. 

There was so much sadness in Richie’s reply. And Eddie knew it was because they hadn’t been able to celebrate with each other. Had Richie spent the whole wedding with a smile glued onto his face, looking at the empty chair next to him and wishing that Eddie had been there to ask him to dance?

Two years was such a long time to be out of someone’s life. And yet, somehow, Richie was still here. He hadn’t moved on. Eddie wasn’t sure _if_ Richie could ever move on, and the thought frightened him, but also made him happier than he had any right to be. 

All he ever wanted was for Richie to be happy. And, as he died, he sent his wish out into the universe. Whispered it, as his friends were all killing Pennywise. 

And maybe that’s how this whole mess started. Someone, somewhere, had heard his plea. 

He still remembered what it was like to die. How it was so painful, until it wasn’t. How he was there, slowly fading away, and then there was nothing. 

He hadn’t stopped existing, necessarily. There was just nothing for him to exist in. 

But then Persephone’s hand reached out through the darkness, and he took it. She told him to wait in a room, by himself, and he did. 

And then Richie called out to him and he was _there_, but he wasn’t dead. Richie Tozier was alive and standing right in front of him. 

But, most importantly, Richie Tozier was there _for him_. He wanted to bring him back into the world. 

To let him live again. 

And Eddie believed he could do it. But he also knew that the closer they got to the end, the harder this was going to be. 

“Hey, Eds? You still good back there?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied, quickly. _Too quickly_. Richie tilted his head, as if he wanted to turn around and check on him. 

_Fuck_. There he was, fucking it up again. Leave it to good old Eddie Spaghetti to get his ass trapped in the Underworld because he couldn’t answer a simple question. 

Eddie cleared his throat. “Two years is… it’s a long time, Rich. What else did I miss?”

“Not too much. Bill got a divorce. Mike’s going to school, now. Wants to be a history professor someday. And, uh…” Richie’s voice trailed away. He ran a hand through his hair. “I… I had to tell Myra. About you. How you died, I mean.”

“Oh?” the thought stopped Eddie short. But only for a moment. “What… how’d it go? What’d she say?”

“Well, I mean, I didn’t exactly give her specifics. Kind of weird to explain that whole ‘shapeshifting evil clown’ thing. But she took it well enough. She kind of filled in the blanks herself. Came up with her own reason for how you died.”

Eddie frowned. Of course she would. 

He had a lot of time to think, while he was in that odd space of existing, but not being. He’d had a lot of time to reflect on all the mistakes he made. 

And marrying someone who was exactly like his mother—who was controlling, manipulative, and made him feel so weak, so _fragile_ all the time—that’d definitely been one of them. 

“Thank you,” Eddie said, pushing himself to get closer to Richie. He was too damn tall. Eddie had to take at least three strides to keep up with one of his. “At least that’s over with.”

Richie’s shoulders tensed again. “You know, Eds, there are _easier_ ways to get out of an unhappy marriage. Like, hmmm, _divorce_?”

His best friend’s words were laced with the slightest amount of bitterness. Eddie couldn’t blame him. It’s not like they were meeting again under the best circumstances.

He sighed. “Maybe if… if things had gone differently… I would’ve done that.”

“Yeah, well, they didn’t,” Richie snapped. “Can we just… be quiet for a bit? I can’t hear myself think.”

Eddie almost quipped, _Richie Tozier, thinking? Hell must’ve frozen over_. But then he thought better of it. Considering where they were, it seemed to be in poor taste. 

Besides, Richie’s pain was barely contained. If his best friend had started screaming, Eddie wouldn’t have done anything to stop him. He hated seeing Richie like this.

He hated not being able to comfort him.

Eddie wanted nothing more than to reach out, to hold his hand, to let him know that everything would be okay. But he couldn’t do that.

He wasn’t exactly… _physical_ at the moment. 

Persephone explained it to him, but he already knew before she said anything. He’d always loved Greek Myths. He had no idea why, really. But something about them always stuck with him. Maybe it was how they usually all ended horribly. 

That was something he could always relate to. 

He couldn’t tell Richie the truth: that things would get more difficult the closer they got to the end because their connection would fade. They could talk freely now. Richie was able to hear every reply that Eddie made. 

But the more they walked, the less Richie would be able to hear. Before it was over, Eddie could be screaming into Richie’s ear, and he wouldn’t hear a thing. 

And they couldn’t touch. That was the other rule. Eddie was merely a shade of his former self. He’d had a physical form when they were reunited, but as soon as Persephone touched Richie’s forehead, he felt it fading away. 

Once he stepped through that door, he’d lost his body entirely. 

Again. 

And that was how everyone else before them had failed. Without the ability to reassure the other through touch… or conversation… inevitably, the first person would always turn around. 

He couldn’t let Richie do that. 

And it wasn’t because he wanted to live. Eddie _did_ want to live again, to have the chance to do things right this time, but he wasn’t worried about himself. 

Richie blamed himself for how Eddie died. Even though it wasn’t his fault. And Eddie knew that if Richie turned around before it was time—if he doomed Eddie to death once more—then Richie would never be able to forgive himself. 

Two years was such a long time to carry around so much guilt for something that wasn’t his fault. 

If Richie looked back, it wouldn’t be his fault, either. The system was rigged that way. 

People lost against it all the time. 

But that’s not how Richie would see it. 

Eddie couldn’t let that happen. But he also couldn’t tell Richie about any of it. If he hinted at what he really was—or what was waiting for them at the end—then Hades would take it all back. He’d send Richie away and keep Eddie in the Underworld. 

Eddie cussed Hades out for that one. The Lord of the Underworld merely shrugged and said, “It’s part of the deal. What’s that expression you have over there? No risk, no reward.”

Eddie hated taking risks. He lived his whole life avoiding them. 

But he was dead now. 

And if taking a risk meant a lifetime—_a real lifetime_—of happiness with Richie, well. 

He was finally ready to try.

He just hoped he got that chance.


	4. And There's No Turning Back.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which apologies happen...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're officially at the halfway mark! Can't wait to get these dumbasses out of the Underworld!

Richie hadn’t meant to snap at Eddie. He was just caught off-guard at how… calm Eddie had been about all of it. Two years had passed since Richie left his body behind, fighting the other Losers the whole way out. If any of them had let him go—if Ben or Mike had slipped up—Richie would’ve found a way to stay in the crumbling house. 

But they hadn’t. The Losers all took turns pulling him through the chaos, pushing him, tearing him away from the only person he ever really loved.

And, after that—after Ben and Bev got to live their happily ever after, and Bill and Mike had the chance to change their lives—Richie wasn’t sure what he had to look forward to. 

After all, Richie had been ready to die next to Eddie that day. 

But his friends wouldn’t let him. 

Richie knew it was unfair, but he resented them for that. Sometimes, he even hated them. They could’ve let him go that day, too. They could’ve let him stay there. 

But they dragged his ass out of that house, broken, completely broken, when he lost Eddie. And, although they’d all kept in touch, it wasn’t up to any of them to pick up the pieces. To get Richie’s shit together. 

To figure out how he could shut down that small voice, deep in his mind, that hated them for saving his life when he couldn’t save Eddie’s. 

Richie didn’t really feel that way anymore. He knew they did it because they loved him. And that Eddie wouldn’t have wanted him to die there, with him, if Richie had the chance to live. But it took a lot of time—and a lot of therapy—to get there. Although, admittedly, he left out the part about the killer clown whenever he spoke to his therapist. 

There were some days where it was easier than others to be composed. To persist and survive through the pain. But then there were days where he wanted to throw it all away. 

That’s what happened when he went to tell Myra. He stood there, holding his shit together as she cried, when all he wanted to do was run out of the house and find a way to disappear. 

But he stuck it out, noticing how Myra’s tears didn’t last as long as he thought they would. And he was sure she was mostly crying because now she’d have to find someone new to control. 

But everyone felt loss in their own ways. Richie just felt it more than most. 

At least when it came to Eddie. 

So, when Eddie didn’t seem to care that two years had gone by, or that Richie delivered the news to Myra, or that he didn’t divorce her when he was alive, something inside of him snapped. The thin, taut line that had been holding him together ever since he arrived in the Underworld. 

Well, if he was being honest, it was the same thin, taut line that had been holding him together since Eddie died. 

And, just like with the other Losers, Richie knew it was unfair of him to expect Eddie to divorce Myra. Especially before shit hit the fan in Derry. Eddie’s trauma—the abuse he had to endure from his mother—ran so deep that he found the closest carbon copy and married her without a second thought. 

Sometimes, it was easier to ignore pain than to deal with it. To cope by pretending all the awful things that happened weren’t real. His therapist would always point out that people dealt with trauma in their own ways, in their own time. 

But that they couldn’t run from it forever. No matter how hard they tried. 

And it seemed like Eddie wasn’t running anymore. 

_Maybe if… if things had gone differently… I would’ve done that_, Eds had said, about divorcing Myra. 

Richie sighed. There it was, plain as… well, there wasn’t really any _day_ in here. So plain as… cave. 

Richie was too busy being angry that he hadn’t really registered what Eddie was trying to say. He was such a dumbass. 

Richie Tozier was here to rescue Eddie Kaspbrak because he loved him. But he was doing a shitty job of showing it. 

He was stuck in his own head, which was never a good place to linger for too long. 

“We would’ve had a dog,” Richie said, finally breaking through the silence between them. “A Pomeranian, I think. Haven’t quite settled on a name yet.” He hoped there was enough of an apology in his voice, and that Eddie was still there, following him. 

All Richie wanted to do was turn back to make sure they were still together. Instead, he just kept moving forward. 

“You’d… you’d want a Pomeranian? After all that?”

Richie chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “If your dumbass hadn’t died on me, yeah. I would’ve.” 

“We could still get that dog,” Eddie replied, hope coloring his words. “We’ll finally have time.”

“That’d be nice,” Richie said, surprised at how calm his voice sounded when everything inside him was screaming. More time was all he ever wanted. And they were close, so close, as long as he didn’t fuck it up. 

“Where do you want to live?” Eddie asked. “Maybe not New York, since I might run into…_certain people_…but I’ve always wanted to see LA.”

_Certain people_… like Myra. 

“LA’s awesome,” Richie replied. “Interesting people. A new city every couple of miles. And so much sun you might think you’re about to catch on fire every time you walk outside. Nothing like this…cold, damp cave.”

Richie tried not to think about how the cave was similar to the place where Eddie died. 

“The sun _does_ sound nice, Rich.”

“You know what else sounds nice?”

“What?”

“Your mom, the first time I—”

“Beep beep, Richie. We were in the middle of a _moment_, Jesus.”

Richie smiled, wishing Eddie could see how happy he made him. But he wouldn’t turn around. He _couldn’t_ turn around. “Hey, _you’re_ the one who chose to make a ‘Your Mom’ joke when you should’ve been confessing your deep, endless, and oddly specific love for me.”

“You knew what I meant.”

“Of course I did. But hearing it wouldn’t have hurt, either.” _It would’ve hurt worse_, Richie thought. But he didn’t want to tell Eddie that. He’d never tell him how he spent the past two years agonizing over their last moments together. How he should’ve told him…but he couldn’t. 

But that was then. This was now. 

If he couldn’t say it now, then why the fuck was he walking through the Underworld?

Richie cleared his throat. “Eds? You…you know I love you, right? That when you died, most of me died, too?”

“Richie, I…” Eddie’s voice trailed away. Richie had no way of seeing it, but he was sure he heard Eddie’s steps falter. “I know. I _knew_. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to leave you.”

Tears pooled in Richie’s eyes. Yep, the pain was still there. Still fresh, somehow, even though he’d been working so hard to stitch up those wounds. 

Richie wiped his tears away. “We’re idiots. We wasted so much time.”

“But we can get it back,” Eddie said, his voice so close, he might as well be hitching a ride on Richie’s back. “We just have to make it out of here.”

Richie didn’t want to think about it. Then he’d get his hopes up. 

And it would make everything worse when he fucked it up and turned around. 

So, instead, he did what his therapist always cautioned him against: he swerved around feelings that were hard to express. He changed the subject. Slightly. 

“I never forgot about you,” was what he said. 

Behind him, Eddie’s breath caught. 

Richie would’ve loved to see the expression on his face. But he kept going. “I forgot about everything else. The rest of the Losers. That shitty town. But not you.”

Eddie was silent for a long moment. So long, that Richie wasn’t sure he was still there. He wanted to call out for Eddie—to make sure that his best friend hadn’t just walked away from him after he confessed feelings he’d been pushing away for so long. 

_Maybe he finally wised up_, Richie thought. _Left me before we had the chance to start anything_. 

Richie wouldn’t blame him if that was what Eddie wanted to do. He was a bitter disaster. He’d quit comedy all-together after Derry. He wasn’t doing much of anything at the moment, other than going to therapy and then getting smashed every Tuesday at karaoke. 

How could anyone love that?

But then, _finally_, Eddie said, “I didn’t… I couldn’t remember you. Not all the way. I watched all of your stand-up. It was awful, but I kept watching it. I didn’t know why…”

Richie sighed, disappointment weighing down on him. It’d been stupid to think that Eddie would’ve gone all those years knowing who he was. If Eddie had remembered him, he would’ve reached out. 

Or maybe he would’ve kept his distance. It’s exactly what Richie did, after all. 

“Why do you think you remembered me?” Eddie asked, his voice so far away, he might as well have stopped moving. 

Richie paused, about to turn around to see where he’d gone—

“No!” Eddie yelled, his voice so strong, it echoed around the cave. “I’m still here, Richie. I’m still here.”

“Sorry,” Richie said, heat rushing to his face. _Of course_ he almost fucked it all up. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie replied, his voice much closer now. “It’s not your fault.”

Richie let out a low laugh. _Everything_ was his fault. “I knew who you were, and I never reached out. If I had… if I wasn’t so scared—”

“Richard Trashmouth Tozier,” Eddie said, cutting him off. “Don’t you dare finish that thought.”

“You know that’s not _actually_ my middle name, right?”

Eddie groaned, exhaling loudly. “Richie… even if you’d found me… if you told me who I was. Who _you_ were… I wouldn’t have believed you. I would’ve run. I might not have gone back to Derry.”

It was Richie’s turn to take a while to reply. His worst fears, confirmed. He was so unlovable, the person who he thought loved him most might not have returned to Derry because _Richie_ would be there. Eddie would’ve doomed them all to avoid him. “Why?” was all Richie could ask, his voice small and broken. 

“I wanted to forget everything," Eddie replied, rushing through his words. “I thought… I thought there was a certain kind of person I had to be. And if I remembered _you_, I wouldn’t be able to be that person. So, I… I let you slip away. It was a shitty thing to do. It was the _wrong_ thing to do. I’m…. I’m sorry, Rich. I’m so, so sorry.”

And, just like that, the tears were back. This wasn’t how Richie thought their conversation was going to go. He understood the choice Eddie made. It made everything easier, to forget what they were to each other. And there were times when Richie was so close to doing that. 

But he couldn’t let Eddie’s memory go. Not when he alive, and not when he was dead, either. 

“I won’t do it again, Richie,” Eddie said. His voice was so small. So far away. “I want to be brave. For you. For us.”

“For our dog,” Richie added. Eddie laughed as Richie wiped his tears away. “And you’re a dumbass, Eds. You were already brave. You were the bravest person I knew.”

“The bravest person you _know_,” Eddie corrected him. And his voice was back again, stronger than ever. “Stop talking about me like I’m dead.”

Richie snorted. “Sometimes I can still hear his voice…” he cleared his throat. “_Beep beep Richie, you’re super hot_,” he said, doing his best-worst Eddie impression. 

“Is that really what I sound like?”

Richie laughed instead of responding. They walked along in a comfortable silence for… hell, Richie had no idea how long. 

“We’re gonna be okay,” Eddie said at some point. 

“I know,” Richie replied. 

And they kept moving, making plans for a future they were determined to see.


	5. I Need Time To Move On.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eddie wonders if he'll ever be enough...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still writing this instead of writing my books woopssssss

Eddie had almost lost everything. 

Again. 

He sent a string of silent curses over to Hades, hoping he got the message loud and clear: this deal fucking sucked. 

Eddie had spent so much of his life keeping himself away from Richie. Pushing back secrets, thoughts, hopes, dreams, all so he could be normal. Or what he thought was normal, anyway. 

And now he had the chance to change that. To be who he always wanted to be, instead of hiding behind a string of finely curated lies. It was about time, too. 

Eddie Kaspbrak didn’t want to be normal. Normal wasn't good enough. Not anymore. 

He wanted to be _happy_. 

He could stop pretending. He could finally be honest with himself. With Richie. 

Only… he couldn’t. Not all the way. Because Richie almost turned around when Eddie’s voice had almost vanished. Eddie could feel it happening, too. There were moments where he felt tired. Which shouldn’t be possible. He hadn’t felt tired since he was alive. 

But the longer they pressed on, the harder it was for Eddie to keep his energy up. It was taking all of his concentration to match Richie’s long strides. And then he had to keep up a conversation on top of it, to make sure that his best friend didn’t try to look for him. It was like trying to thread a needle while walking across a tightrope without a safety net while the wind wouldn’t stop gusting.

It was how he’d faltered, earlier. He hadn’t expected Richie to remember him. And Eddie hated having to tell his best friend how he willingly forgot him. Well, it wasn’t _completely_ willingly. Some part of him would never let Richie go. That’s why he suffered through so much of Trashmouth’s shitty stand-up. 

But Richie deserved the truth. Even if he hadn’t somehow wound up in the Underworld on a quest to bring Eddie back into the land of the living, Richie needed to know how complicated everything was. 

Because Eddie wasn’t sure that he’d ever be enough. That much was obvious already. 

Richie loved Eddie so much that he wasn’t able to forget him. And Eddie… he loved him back. He loved him so much. He knew that if their roles were reversed—if… if Richie had been the one who died that day—that Eddie would be doing the same exact thing. Going on a long-ass walk through the Underworld in order to bring him back. 

If Orpheus offered him the chance, Eddie wouldn’t hesitate. He’d wasted too much time hesitating already. 

But Richie had always been so sure in how he felt. And Eddie had always been so conflicted. 

Richie deserved someone who would never forget him, no matter painful it was. 

Eddie wanted to be that person. But he hadn’t been, so far. 

He wasn’t sure if there was a way to make it up to Richie. But he wanted the chance to try.

As much as it wore him down, he knew he couldn’t keep walking in silence. He _had_ to talk to Richie. There was still so much they both still had to say to each other. 

“When did you know?” Eddie asked, slowing his pace a bit so he could make his voice louder. 

“When did I know…what? How _handsome_ I was?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Richie. I’m trying to be serious, here.”

“_Eds_,” he replied, matching his tone. “We’ve been serious for, like, this whole walk. Can’t we just… not? For a while?”

Eddie wanted nothing more than to fire off a few jokes at Richie’s expense and fall into their old banter. It was so safe. So comfortable.

So goddamn normal. 

But if this whole thing went to hell… if Eddie couldn’t keep up with him or reply when Richie needed him to… well. There were things Richie needed to know. 

Richie should be with someone who would love him just as fiercely as he loved them. And if Eddie didn’t make it out of here, he wanted Richie to be able to find that person. 

Two years was an awfully long time to spend mourning someone. To be stuck in a place filled with so much sadness, without the desire to move on. 

Eddie cleared his throat. He’d managed to pick up his pace but had to slow down again to get the words out. “I didn’t really know until Mike called me. And then it all came rushing back. I didn’t… I almost asked him for your number, but I couldn’t…” his voice trailed off. The words were sticking in his throat, but he focused on them, doing his best to get them out. “I thought about it a lot on the drive to Derry. What I would do when I saw you. What I wanted to tell you. _How_ to tell you.” He paused, pushing himself to keep up. “I almost turned around a few times. I was so fucking nervous. I didn’t know if I could see you again. I… I didn’t want my world to break apart.”

Richie’s shoulders tensed. Eddie hated that he had to say this at all. But it was the truth. 

“But then I saw you,” Eddie continued, watching Richie’s shoulders. He always carried all of his stress in his shoulders. “And suddenly, it didn’t matter if my world shattered. I _wanted_ everything to shatter. To change. I’d spent so long running away from you, and when I finally saw you again all I wanted to do was run right into your arms.” He paused, smiling as Richie’s shoulders relaxed. “Obviously, I didn’t do it, but I should have.”

“_Obviously_,” Richie said, the hint of a smile in his voice. “If you had, we would’ve been making out before the fortune cookies erupted with Creepy Crawlies.”

Eddie laughed. “Could you imagine what everyone’s reactions would’ve been?”

“Bev probably would’ve high-fived us once we’d stopped to catch our breath.”

“Mike would’ve cheered.”

“Ben and Bill would’ve traded confused looks.”

“And Stan—” Eddie’s voice caught. He had no idea where Stan was. Or if he could go on his own walk out of the Underworld. And he hadn’t meant to bring him up, but the name just tumbled out of his mouth. 

Another Loser who was gone, but not forgotten. 

Stan would’ve been the better choice for Richie to rescue. He was always so sure of himself, so true to who he was. He could’ve helped Richie figure things out. Stan would've invited Richie to stay with him and Patty until he was able to move on. 

Stan could never hurt Richie like Eddie already had. 

But Richie would never be able to get Stan out. Not like this, anyway.

Eddie didn’t have time to dwell on that thought, though, because without missing a beat, Richie said, “Stan would’ve just rolled his eyes at us. Probably thrown an ‘I told you so’ in Bill’s direction.” He laughed, but it died away too quickly. 

Richie stopped. 

It gave Eddie a moment to catch up with him, but Eddie also worried that Richie was about to turn around to face him. Eddie wouldn’t have blamed him if he did. 

Richie carried so much loss with him, it weighed down his every step. If Richie needed to see Eddie’s face—if he tried to hold his hand, or give him a hug, or wipe away at tears that he couldn’t make—it would be a reasonable thing to do. 

But, thankfully, Richie kept his back toward Eddie. Instead of relief, a bitter taste filled his mouth. Which shouldn’t have been possible, but something told Eddie that didn’t really matter. 

All Eddie wanted to do was comfort Richie. And he wanted his best friend to do the same for him. But they couldn’t touch, and it was taking every spare bit of energy he had to keep his anger tampered down. It wouldn’t help anything to start screaming in the Underworld. If anything, it might piss Hades off and get him to renege on the deal. 

Eddie just didn’t understand why this had to be so _fucking_ difficult. Why couldn’t they just walk out of the Underworld together, side by side, and not have to worry about messing things up so badly that they never saw each other again?

They’d already waited their whole lives for this chance. It wasn’t fair that it could be pulled away from them so easily. 

“Stan,” Richie said, his voice so small, so sad. All Eddie wanted to do was hold him. 

_Damnit, Hades_. 

“I didn’t even ask about Stan,” Richie said, pivoting slightly. “Hey, do you think, maybe—”

“Stop!” Eddie yelled, putting so much power in his voice that he nearly fell over. “Richie. Stop.”

Richie froze. His body was tilted in Eddie’s direction, but his head hadn’t quite turned. Thankfully, he’d listened to Eddie’s warning. Richie took a deep, shaky breath, righting himself. 

“I’m sorry, Eds.” Richie’s voice broke into a million pieces. As did Eddie’s heart. “I just thought… I mean, maybe, if we ask nicely, Stan can—”

“No, Richie,” Eddie said, his voice soft, but not because he was fading away. Not this time. “I tried… before you got here, I asked. Stan is… well, Hades wasn’t super clear on where, but I don’t think he can be rescued. Not this way, at least.”

Richie was silent. But he started to walk again. 

If Eddie’s heart still worked, it would have been racing. He frantically filled in the silence. “The way we’re doing this… you have to be in love. Someone would have to do the same for Stan.” _And they’d have to make it out_, Eddie thought, but didn’t dare say. _When no one else has_.

“So, he stays dead,” Richie said, his voice nothing more than a whisper on the wind. 

“For now. But there’s nothing saying we can’t find another way. We just have to get out of here first, is all.” Eddie paused, getting as close to Richie as he could. He felt like he was going to pass out. But he pushed away the question of how he was able to feel that way _at all_ as he said, “We can do that, right, Rich? We can get out?”

“Yeah…” he said, though Eddie didn’t like the uncertainty creeping into his best friend’s voice. 

He had to keep talking. For as long as he could. 

“Do you remember the story?” Eddie asked. “I think I told it to you, once.”

“Hmm?” Richie replied. 

Eddie didn’t want Richie to get too lost in his head. He was probably finding some way to blame himself for Stan’s death. Or not being able to save him. 

“Orpheus and Eurydice,” Eddie said, hoping that was enough to get his attention. “You said you met him, right? Orpheus? What was he like?”

“Tall. Hot. Not quite ‘27 Brazilian soccer players wrapped up into one person,’ hot, but maybe like 25, 26 of them, at most.”

“You’re telling me _Ben_ is hotter than a literal immortal being?”

Richie shrugged. “Maybe,” he replied, playfulness coming back into his voice. “Sounds like _someone_ really wants to find out.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, somehow, you’re still here.”

“A momentary lapse in judgement.”

“That lasted 27 years? Yeah, suuuuuuure, Eddie Spaghetti. Whatever you say.”

“27 years _or more_,” Eddie replied. “But really, who’s counting?”

“I am. And Bev, for sure,” Richie said, laughing. 

Eddie smiled. It didn’t matter that they were trying to do something that hadn’t been done before. As long as they were together, they’d take on the whole damn world.

…and Underworld. 

And they’d win. He _knew_ they’d win. 

“Hey, Eds,” Richie said, after his laughter faded out. “Did you meet… what was her name? Eurydice?”

Eddie frowned. “No. Just Hades and Persephone.”

“But she’s down here, right? Somewhere?”

“As far as I know.”

“And Orpheus…” Richie’s voice trailed away. Eddie could practically hear the gears turning in his best friend’s head. “How far did he make it before he turned around?”

Eddie had never wanted to lie to Richie so badly in his life. 

Well, death. 

He wanted to tell Richie that Orpheus made it two whole steps before he looked back. That he’d barely started the journey and he couldn’t bear to not look at Eurydice’s face. Or that he was so suspicious of Hades from the start that he took those two steps, checked to see if it was all an elaborate trick, and then lost the love of his life. 

Eddie knew Richie could make it to the end. And, if he lied to him, maybe Richie would believe it, too. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Eddie Kaspbrak was done with lying. To Richie. To himself. To the world. 

And if Richie stood any chance of believing in himself, he needed to know the truth. The odds. 

He needed to be prepared for what he was up against. 

“Eds?” Richie called out. “You can’t go all quiet on me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said, the words sticking in his throat again. His mouth was so dry. 

_How was his mouth dry?_

Eddie pushed the panic that was fluttering in his chest aside. “They made it to the very end. All Orpheus had to do was cross back over to the other side. But he thought… he thought Hades was playing a trick on him. He didn’t think Eurydice was really there. But she was—”

He cut himself off as a warning—searing and hot—dug into the back of his neck. 

_Fuck_, Eddie thought. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_. He’d come this close to telling him that Eurydice was a shade, just like he was now. And if he’d done that, he would’ve gone right back to Hades. 

That warning had saved them both. 

But the Lord of the Underworld didn’t give warnings. He made that much clear when he brought Eddie back into existence. 

So, if Hades hadn’t helped him, then who did? Persephone? She had a soft spot for ‘tragic love,’ sure, but would she interfere with Hades’ deal?

And why would she, for them? She didn’t owe them anything. 

“She did _what_?” Richie asked. 

“Hmm?” Eddie replied, worried, for a moment, that he'd spoken his thoughts about Persephone out loud. 

“Eurydice. What was up with her?”

Eddie sighed. He’d gotten too lost in his own head, which was never a good place to stay for too long. His hands were shaking as he tried to rake them though his hair. But he wasn’t corporeal, so it was just air cutting through air. “She was with Orpheus the whole time. Right behind him, in fact.”

“And then he lost her.”

Eddie nodded, even though Richie couldn’t see it. “And then he lost her.”

Richie let out a low whistle. “That fucking blows. No wonder that guy can’t stop singing Cher.”

Eddie’s eyes nearly bugged out of his face. “Sorry, what?”

“He sent me to the Underworld while he was singing ‘Believe.’”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Richie held his hands up as he walked. “It’s the Honest-to-Hades truth.”

They both howled with laughter as they continued on. And Eddie’s confidence grew with each step. 

It wasn’t so bad, really. All Eddie had to do was hold on until the end. Even if he lost the ability to talk, he could still move. He’d find a way to reassure Richie that he was there. 

That he’d never leave him again. 

Richie launched into his best Cher impression and Eddie did his best to sing along. 

But as they got to the chorus, he thought he heard something else ringing out through the darkness, too. A third voice, much softer than theirs. 

Humming along with them. 

Richie was still singing at full volume, so Eddie didn’t think he could hear it. It was probably better that way. No need to freak him out any more than he already was. 

There was a time where Eddie would’ve thought the third voice was a sign that something was wrong with him. A symptom of a disease he’d never actually had. 

But he knew better, now. 

Someone else was in the cave. 

Eddie turned—since he was the only one who had the luxury to do so—and tried to find the source of the sound. But the only thing behind him was a lot of cave. And Richie was enthusiastically signing and dancing in front of him. 

Eddie couldn’t help but smiling like an idiot. He loved that loser so much. 

Eventually, Richie finished the song.

But the humming never ended.


	6. I Need A Love To Feel Strong.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Richie has doubts...
> 
> (For a fun and not at all painful time, listen to "Doubt Comes In" from _Hadestown_ ...and like, all of that soundtrack, if you haven't already!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the encouragement and kind words, everyone! I'm definitely going to expand this into a series once this fic is done :D 
> 
> Can't wait to bring the Losers along on more Greek Myth adventures!!! <3

Richie knew they were getting close to the end. He could feel it in the air, all around him. A hum, low in his chest, pulling him forward, step by step. 

Aside from the handful of times he’d almost fucked everything up and turned around, he didn’t think the walk had been particularly treacherous so far. Richie still didn’t understand how no one had made it out. 

Not being able to see Eddie sucked. But it wasn’t impossible to wait. 

He’d waited for his whole life to be able to tell Eddie how he felt. And somehow, impossibly, Eddie felt the same way. So, Richie kept walking, ignoring the urge to see his best friend’s face. 

Persephone had told him to memorize it before he walked through the door. And Richie had. But he’d memorized it long before he ever stepped foot in the Underworld. He thought about Eddie’s laugh, and the way they fell back into their old routine when they saw each other again. 

How Eddie had forgotten him, and how Richie understood why he did it. Eddie apologized, and Richie had forgiven him, because that’s what they did. They looked out for each other. They knew each other better than anyone else in the world.

And now, Richie knew that neither of them would ever stop fighting to be together. 

Everything was impossible. And somehow, despite the odds, they found each other again. 

They could have everything they ever wanted. It was all _so close_.

He just had to keep going. Another hour or two… or however time worked down here… wasn’t anything compared to all the time they’d have together. 

All he had to do was walk. It was so simple. 

So easy. 

_So how did Orpheus fuck it up?_ Richie thought, frowning. 

Eddie said that Orpheus thought it was a trick—that Hades never had any intention of letting Eurydice go. At first, Richie didn’t believe it. There had to be another reason that Orpheus gave up the person he loved the most in the world. 

But Richie also remembered his reaction to finding out that he was standing in front of Hades and Persephone. How, in the few stories he could barely remember, the gods weren’t particularly kind to any of the people they interacted with. In fact, they fucked things up more than they helped. 

Nausea roiled in Richie’s stomach. None of the stories he could remember had a happy ending. 

Usually, someone died. 

But Persephone had seemed so sincere when she told him that they weren’t going to add more tragedy to his life. Though, maybe, that’s because Richie _wanted_ to believe her. She told him what he wanted to hear. 

And what about Hades? Richie couldn’t get over the Lord of the Underworld’s eyes. How Hades and Orpheus both had those bright, yellow, killer demon clown eyes. 

A cold breeze blew past him, the ghost of laughter wrapping around him briefly before it floated away. Goosebumps rose on his skin as he let out a shaky breath. 

They killed Pennywise two years ago. They _did_. 

Didn’t they?

But what if… what if Eddie died for nothing? What if it was like when they were kids, and It just pretended to fade away? Breaking off into little pieces and drifting off, only to pull itself back together in another 27 years?

He couldn’t… Richie didn’t know what he would do if this was all an elaborate trick. 

He wouldn’t be able to face It again. Not without Eddie. 

If this really _was_ Pennywise, _somehow_, and It was just _pretending_ to be Eddie, confessing all these feelings that his best friend never really had…. Richie didn’t know what he would do. 

That fucking clown had done it before. Taken Eddie’s form to lure Richie away from his friends when they were kids. 

If this was a lie… if it _wasn’t_ Eddie—

“Hey, Rich,” Eddie said, from somewhere behind him. “You’ve been quiet for a while. You doing all right up there?”

Richie tensed. “I….uh, yeah. I think so.”

“Richie?”

Richie’s hand shook as he pushed his glasses up the ridge of his nose. “You know… I lied. When we were kids.”

“…okay. It’s not that unusual, Rich. Kids lie.”

“I know, but—but that’s now what I meant. Back when it all happened… the first time. When we were sitting in the park and talking about what our biggest fears were. I said it was clowns.”

Eddie was quiet for a long moment. And then he sighed, and said, “Well, given the circumstances, it seemed like a good thing to be afraid of.”

“But… but that wasn’t it. And that goddamn clown knew…” his voice trailed away as anger flared in his chest. It was loud enough to drown out the soft hum that was pulling him forward. 

This was _fucking ridiculous_. It was maddening. All he wanted to do was turn around and make sure Eddie didn’t have glowing yellow eyes. That he really _was_ talking to his best friend, and not some evil imitation of him. 

“Richie…” Eddie said. His voice was so quiet. So far away. 

“It was _you_,” Richie said, stopping abruptly. “You were my biggest fear.”

“What?” Eddie asked, a little louder—a little closer—this time. 

Richie sighed. _Here goes nothing_. “It was a lot of things all rolled into one. How I felt about you. Wondering if you felt the same way about me. What everyone would say if we ever got together. Or what they’d do. It’s not like Derry was the most tolerant place, and back then… I couldn’t bring myself to do anything. Even though I wanted to.”

Eddie didn’t reply. Richie’s heart raced in his chest as he started to move again.

“And… and losing you,” Richie continued. “I was always scared to lose you. Or that you’d forget about me, somehow. I’d just… go missing… and that would be the end of that. You wouldn’t think about me ever again.”

Richie paused, but Eddie still didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure _why_ Eddie wasn’t jumping in. Trying to reassure him. Maybe his best friend was listening to everything he said.

Or maybe… if it wasn’t Eddie… whatever was behind him was waiting for more fears to collect.

“It’s funny, though,” Richie said, his anger fading as he continued, giving way to despair. “I wound up losing you. Twice. And the second time… after you died… well. I wasn’t scared anymore. I wasn’t anything anymore. It’s like all of my emotions just vanished. They were gone, and you were gone, and I was so numb to everything around me.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Depression’s a bitch.”

He said that to his therapist on multiple occasions, and she’d always nodded her head like it was the smartest thing he’d ever said. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d explain… whatever was happening here… in his next session. 

Well, if it was real, anyway. 

Eddie still didn’t reply. Richie kept going. 

“I wasn’t scared of anything for two years,” Richie said. “But, the thing is, Eds, I’m _so scared_ now. You came back into my life and everything rushed in with you. And I… I’m so scared that I’ll lose you again. That I’ll fuck it up. If not here, in this shitty-ass cave, then when we’re back in the world.”

“Richie…” Eddie finally replied. Richie nearly jumped. Eddie’s voice was so close. Right in his ear.

But so quiet. 

Richie waited for Eddie to keep talking, but the silence stretched on in front of him. When he couldn’t take it anymore, Richie finally said, “I’m scared of something else, too. I’ve been thinking about what you said, earlier. How… how Orpheus turned around because he thought Hades was playing a trick on him. And if that’s what this is… if it’s a trick…” his voice trailed away. He had no idea how to finish that thought.

Even if he was wrong about Pennywise, he still had to wrap his head around the thought that he’d _actually spoken_ to Hades, Persephone, and Orpheus. 

Two Greek Gods and… whatever Orpheus was, now. 

A killer clown from outer space was easy enough to understand. But a world in which Gods were _real_? Where a sad immortal musician would sing way too much Cher at Tuesday night karaoke? It seemed impossible. 

And yet… when Orpheus touched his arm in the bar, it was so cold. And the way he felt when Persephone touched his forehead wasn’t anything he could ever recall feeling when he was dealing with It. 

If Richie really had met actual Greek Gods… if this was real…

He didn’t want to finish the thought. He’d already allowed himself too much hope. 

And would he want to take a god’s word at face value? Hades had power. He was _dangerous_. 

Richie didn’t want to trust anyone like that. 

But Eddie had said that Eurydice was behind Orpheus the whole time—that his only mistake was not believing that Hades would keep his end of the bargain. 

Richie didn’t want to make the same mistake. But he could also see where Orpheus was coming from.

Who was he, to Hades? Just a sad fool who couldn’t stop drinking low-shelf vodka and hadn’t moved on after two years of heartache. 

Richie was _entertainment_. 

And, just like that, the bitterness and resentment he’d been trying to push down resurfaced. His pain didn’t exist for anyone’s benefit. Not for Hades, who could be watching him agonize over whether or not any of this is real, or for Pennywise, who only ever wanted Richie to be afraid.

Afraid of his feelings. Of who he was. Of who he wanted to be.

And, if he was being honest, he was still afraid. He was _fucking terrified_. But if this was a trick—no matter who was playing it—Richie knew he was stubborn enough to not let them win. 

They had no right to use his pain for anything. 

But what would _he_ do with it that they couldn’t?

Richie had gotten used to it, over the years. Sometimes, it was comforting to know it was there. It gave him a good reason to hate the world. To stay stuck where he was. To stop moving. Stop changing. 

He held it close to him. Closer than he’d ever held Eddie. 

Richie used his pain like Pennywise used his fear. It was his fuel. Something he could never get enough of. 

But, then… he’d had a lot of time to think in the Underworld. Way too much time to think. 

If he could bring Eddie back with him at the end of this… then what would Richie do with all that pain?

Who would he be, if he wasn’t mourning? If his regrets faded away?

If he could be _happy_?

“Richie?” Eddie asked. Richie finally let the tension in his shoulders go. Eddie sounded normal again. Not fading away, not too loud. Just like regular old Eddie Spaghetti. 

“Yeah, man. I’m still here.”

“We’re close.”

“I know.”

“We can make it.”

“I know.”

And Richie _did_ know. For the first time in his long, stupid, miserable life he was sure of one thing: trick or not, he wasn’t going to turn around. He was going to make it to the end. 

Because, if it was a lie, then he’d at least know he was capable of doing it. Richie Tozier would _finally_ be able to save Eddie Kaspbrak, even if it was only a dream. Or a trap. 

And if everything _was_ real… if the gods somehow existed and put him through some version of hell in order to get Eddie back, he wasn’t going to give Hades the satisfaction of winning. 

If Hades even wanted to win. Maybe he was a softie, deep down inside. The Lord of the Underworld had been so tender with his wife. But maybe his kindness only extended to her. Maybe Hades was a cold bastard who was so bored that he brought Richie down here just to watch him suffer. He wasn't sure whether to give Hades the benefit of the doubt. But Richie didn't want to take a chance, either way. 

And if that _fucking clown_ was behind this, somehow...

Well, then. Richie would show It what his all of his pain, and rage, and fear—_yes, fear, motherfucker_—were capable of. 

“We’re going to make it,” Eddie said, his voice fading away. “You just need to wait for me.”

Richie frowned. “Where are you, Eds? Am I going too fast?”

“Wait…” Eddie’s voice whispered from the darkness. 

“Eds?” Richie said, wishing he could turn around but forcing himself to put one foot in front of the other. “Eddie? Are you still here?”

Richie’s footsteps were the only reply. He was alone. 

Richie knew what it was like to be alone. He’d been that way most of his life, one way or another. It was safe, to be alone. Comfortable. 

So goddamn normal. 

But this was something new. 

It was the worst kind of alone. His best friend was close, _so close_, that Richie could practically hear Eddie screaming for him to keep moving. 

But Richie couldn’t feel Eddie’s warmth. Or _actually_ hear his voice. Not anymore.

Richie had faced down this kind of alone once before.

In a different cave.

_When Eddie died_. 

The thought made him flinch. Richie wouldn’t have made it out alive if it hadn’t been for the other Losers. But they weren’t here, now, to drag his ass out of the Underworld. 

All he had was himself. And the hope that Eddie was still behind him. 

He had to drag both of them out of here, somehow. 

And he’d find a way to do it. As long as he remembered to hold onto the small bit of hope—of warmth—that was slowly blooming in his chest. 

He just had to keep listening. Both to the hum pulling him forward, and to Eddie. 

Wherever he was.


	7. 'Cause I've Got Time To Think It Through...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eddie makes a new friend and Richie makes a choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look there's no way I'm writing any of my actual book until this thing is done, so here we are! 
> 
> One more chapter left :D

Eddie’s voice had gone hoarse from all the screaming. 

This was it. They were almost at the end. 

And, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get Richie to hear him. 

It was _fucking ridiculous_. Richie was close, _so close_, to him, that all Eddie had to do was reach out and he’d touch his best friend’s shoulder.  
But Richie had no way of doing that. Or knowing that this whole thing was real. 

Eddie hated listening to Richie agonize over what was happening. 

All Eddie had wanted to do was tell Richie about how he was a shade. How that was the reason it was getting harder for him to communicate. Why he’d been quiet for too long. 

But he didn’t dare get close to that subject again. Not after the warning.

Not after he almost fucked it all up. 

“Seriously, Hades, _what the fuck is this shit_?!?” Eddie snapped, doing his best to yell. It came out more as a raspy whisper. He screamed, which hurt his throat. “Goddamnit, why did you have to make this so difficult?!?”

Richie’s head tilted a little. Eddie stopped breathing. Maybe Richie could hear him. 

“Richie?” he asked.

But his best friend didn’t reply. 

Eddie bent down to pick up a nearby rock. He wanted to throw it so hard that it shattered. Maybe then Hades would get the picture. 

But his hand went right through it. 

Eddie groaned, putting his head in his hands. Which also didn’t work out. 

_Goddamnit._

He hated all of this. Richie needed Eddie to be there, right behind him. To keep talking to him. To stay with him, instead of leaving him behind. 

Eddie had left Richie behind too many times before. 

But he didn’t want to do it anymore. He _wasn’t_ doing it now. 

He just hoped Richie knew. 

Eddie couldn’t cry. But it still felt like tears were pricking in the back of his eyes. 

A warm hand rested on his shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better,” a soft voice said, from somewhere behind him, “this is always the worst part.”

Eddie jumped, nearly falling over. He turned to see a girl, maybe in her early 20s. Her dark black hair had a slight wave to it. Eddie tried not to think about how well it blended into the shadows.The torchlight was dim, but her golden brown skin shone brightly in it. She wore a simple dress, along with… combat boots?

An odd combination for walking around in a cave, but Eddie had seen stranger things before. 

The girl smiled, holding out her hand. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I meant to introduce myself earlier, but there wasn’t really a good time. It seemed like you two needed to be alone.”

Warmth shouldn’t have been able to rush to Eddie’s cheeks. He hadn’t been able to blush since he was alive. And yet…

He pushed away the thought, focusing on the girl. She gestured at Richie, who was too far away for Eddie’s liking. 

“Let’s walk and talk,” she said. 

Eddie nodded. “How much of… _that_ did you hear?”

“Only snippets, here and there,” she replied. “Enough to know that you both love each other in a way that I haven’t seen since…” her voice trailed off. “I don’t listen in on conversations in this cave. Whatever you’ve said…whatever _he’s_ said… it’s yours to keep. I promise.”

Eddie met her gaze. Earlier, Richie had been so skeptical of Hades. And he had every right to be. After all, a pretty big piece of the puzzle was being kept from him. _Intentionally_. 

But this girl wasn’t Hades. Eddie believed her. And, more importantly, he knew who she was. 

“Nice to meet you, Eurydice,” he said, holding out his hand. 

The girl beamed. “You know my name!” Warmth spread throughout Eddie’s body as he took her hand. His throat stopped hurting. And he just felt… better, in general. 

“Of course I do,” Eddie said, returning her smile. “Your story was always my favorite one.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” she replied. They let go of each other, and sadness flashed in her expression. “People… they don’t usually know who I am. They remember Orpheus. And Hades and Persephone, obviously. But I… I just existed to die. To be the inspiration for someone else’s sad song.”

Eddie placed a hand on her shoulder, nearly crying out when he could actually touch it. “I’m sorry,” he said, not really knowing what to say. “That sucks.”

He winced at how stupid that sounded. _Wow, Eds. Way to go. Any more brilliant insights, other than ‘that sucks?’_

She sighed. “You know how easy it is to forget someone.”

Eddie’s hand dropped from her shoulder. He didn’t think she meant to hurt him with that, but the wound had opened up, nonetheless. “Maybe people like me don’t know who you are,” he said, giving her a small smile. “But, for what it’s worth, I don’t think _he’s_ forgotten you. Even if… if most of your memory is gone… there’s still something that lingers. A piece of you that he'll never be able to lose.”

She was silent for a moment, and then nodded, slowly. “I hope you’re right.”

Eddie looked at Richie. “I know I am.”

They walked along in silence for a while. Eurydice hummed Cher’s ‘Believe,’ and Eddie kicked himself for not putting it together sooner. 

The warmth in the warning before he gave it all away. 

“You stopped me from fucking it up,” Eddie said, watching Eurydice as she kept her gaze forward. 

“I did. You almost blew it, _dumbass_.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. _No fucking way_. Eurydice just cursed. At _him_. “Oh my god, _please_ tell me that 'dumbass' is an ancient insult.”

Eurydice rolled her eyes. “_Mortals_,” she sighed. “No. I learned it from _you_,” she gestured toward Eddie, “from him. Even that song you were singing earlier. The one that—” she caught herself, her smile turning into a frown. “It’s been so long since anyone else was down here. I… I appreciated the change.”

Eddie’s heart broke for Eurydice. How long had she spent down here, alone and forgotten? Had Orpheus found her again, after he died? Or was he trapped on the other side, doomed to send souls down on an impossible quest in order to keep her company?

It wasn’t fair. She deserved happiness, too.

Eddie understood what it must have been like for her. To trail behind Orpheus, urging him to keep going, reassuring him that she was still there. 

He tried not to imagine the moment where Orpheus turned around. Where he stopped believing that she was with him.

Did she feel like she wasn’t enough, when that happened? Did she feel anything at all?

“The door is just up ahead,” Eurydice said, tearing Eddie away from his thoughts. “This part… this is where he…” her voice shook as it trailed away. 

How many other people had she walked next to as they tried to make it past this point? 

How many hearts shattered in front of her when someone turned around?

Panic fluttered in Eddie’s chest. He’d been so busy talking to Eurydice that he hadn’t tried to tell Richie that he was still there. 

He’d promised to never forget Richie again. 

But he had. It was only for a few moments—and only because he was talking to _freaking Eurydice_ and it was _by far one of the coolest things he’d ever done_—but still. That wasn’t a good excuse. 

Eddie Kaspbrak had run out of excuses when he died. 

Now that he was so close to returning to the Land of the Living, he never wanted to use them again. 

“How do I help him?” Eddie said, hating how much his voice shook. Earlier, he’d told Richie he wanted to be brave. 

But right now, all he felt was _fucking terrified_. 

Eddie had saved Richie’s life when he was alive. And he _knew_ Richie could return the favor, now that Eddie was dead. 

All he wanted to do was tell Richie how much he believed in him. How Richie was the one who’d always been _so_ brave. So kind. Even when Richie was teasing Eddie, there was never anything malicious behind it. It was playful. Fun. 

Eddie wanted Richie to know that when he forgot about Richie, there was nothing good in the world. Everything was gray, and dull, and… a lot like this cave. But as soon as Eddie saw Richie again, everything came back into focus. 

And Richie was still every bit as brave, and kind, and good as he’d been when they were kids. 

Eddie should’ve told him all of this while he still had the chance. 

He hoped he’d still be able to, after this. That Richie would walk through that door without looking back. 

That he’d trust Eddie to be right behind him. 

That Eddie would finally be _enough_. 

Eddie wiped at the tears that were streaking down his cheeks. 

_Wait. _

_He wiped at the tears that were streaking down his cheeks._

Eddie looked at Eurydice, laughing through his tears. _It was happening_. He was changing. 

Eurydice smiled at him, putting a hand on his cheek. He wanted to apologize to her for how slick it still was from his tears, but she didn’t seem to mind. 

“This part,” Eurydice said, wiping his tears away, “is what he has to do on his own. That’s why it’s the part I hate the most.”

“There has to be a way to help.”

She shook her head. “He has to be the one to choose to believe that this is real. That happiness—that _life_—awaits on the other side. The only thing you can do now is be with him while he decides.” She gestured at Richie, who’d stopped in front of a door. 

“Good luck,” she said.

And then she pushed him forward. 

Eddie wanted to reach out to Richie. To let him know that here was right there, behind him, and that he’d never leave him again. 

But Eddie was already starting to take on a physical form, and he didn’t want to touch him before it was time. 

It was the last way he could fuck it up. 

Eddie shoved his hands in his pockets as Richie stared at the door. 

“I can’t hear you anymore, Eds,” Richie said. “But I hope you’re still there.”

“I am,” he replied, even though he knew it wouldn’t change anything. 

“Do you remember what you said the last time we were in front of a bunch of doors?

Eddie nodded. It’d been right before he died. _Next time, we’re picking Regular Scary._

“I guess this is next time,” Richie said, reaching for the doorknob. “And, uh, I’d like to note that Regular Scary is way more terrifying than an evil Pomeranian. Or some legs trapped in a closet.”

He turned the knob slightly. “Hey, do you think there was anything to that? The closet, I mean.”

Eddie put his face in his hands, groaning. _Of course_ Richie would choose _this moment_ to try to pick apart an evil clown’s penchant for symbolism.

“Maybe there was,” Richie said. And then his hand dropped to his side. 

Eddie’s heart plummeted straight into his stomach. 

“I don’t know if it’s really you back there,” Richie said. 

“It is, it is, it is!” Eddie practically shouted. 

“I don’t know what’ll happen once I open this door. Maybe it works out. Or it doesn’t. But… even if… even if this is a dream…” his voice trailed away. 

Eddie took another step closer to him. 

“It was a pretty good dream,” Richie said, his hand hovering over the doorknob. “Minus the crying. And me almost getting eaten by a three-headed dog. And having to listen to Orpheus sing Cher—” 

“Beep beep, Richie,” Eddie said, trying to cut him off, even though he knew he couldn’t hear him. “Open the door, you dumbass.”

_Succeed where everyone else has failed, Love. _

_Please._

Richie stood still for a moment. And then he slowly started to turn around. 

Eddie was about to scream. 

And then Richie stopped. He turned back to the door.

Eddie held his breath.

And Richie... well. Richie chuckled.

Eddie almost lost it. _ That motherfucker was laughing._

“I’m just kidding," Richie said, twisting the doorknob. "That’s what you get for calling me dramatic, _Eddie Spaghetti_.”

And then Richard Trashmouth Tozier—the idiot that Eddie Kaspbrak loved with his whole heart, no matter if he was dead or alive—opened the goddamn door. 

“See you on the other side, Loser,” Richie said, as he stepped through it. 

Eddie’s heart swelled with pride. 

Richie was brave. And kind. And good. 

And he _fucking did it_. He _beat the motherfucking odds_. 

Eddie pumped his fist into the air. “Suck it, Hades! You son of a—”

A warm hand pressed between Eddie’s shoulders. “Go,” Eurydice whispered. “Don’t make him wait too long.” 

Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. 

He charged through the door—knocking Richie over in the process as he clumsily crashed back into the Land of the Living. 

_Oh, shit._

Eddie Kaspbrak was alive. 

_Again_. 

And he was currently sitting on top of Richie Tozier.


	8. Do You...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which one adventure ends, and another begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally did it!!!
> 
> Thanks so much for joining me on the beginning of what I think will be a fun adventure through Greek Myth with the Losers! 
> 
> R+E mean a lot to me, and I'm thrilled, floored, and absolutely stoked at all of the kind and lovely comments <3
> 
> The next part probably won't start for a little while. I really _do_ have to get back to writing my book, but I promise you won't have to wait too long!
> 
> In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the end of R+E's Epic Underworld Adventure :D

Eddie had barely registered the fact that they were inside of… what had to be the diveiest dive bar in the world, because Richie Tozier was on the floor and Eddie was straddling him. 

Warmth flooded into Eddie’s cheeks as he blushed—_he blushed!_—and then he cleared his throat as he jumped up, offering his hand to Richie. 

Richie tilted his head, looking Eddie up and down. 

Eddie’s heart sank. _What if he wasn’t what Richie remembered?_

But then Eddie saw Richie’s expression and smirked at his best friend. “Richie Tozier, are you checking me out?”

Richie squinted. “Me? No. _Never_.” He pushed himself up, sitting down as he wiped his glasses off on his shirt. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re a figment of my imagination, or an evil clown pretending to be the love of my life.”

Eddie grabbed his hand, pulling him up. “Don’t ever compare me to that fucking clown again,” he said, bringing Richie closer. And then he kissed him. 

It was tender. Soft. Hesitant on Richie’s part. 

Until it wasn’t, and they were making out in the middle of a bar while ‘Believe’ wove through the air. He wondered, briefly, if people were staring at them. And then he leaned further into the kiss, tossing off a casual _Fuck it!_ in his mind for good measure. They could do anything they wanted, now. 

They had a lifetime—or two—of catching up to do.

The kiss was everything Eddie thought it would be, and nothing like it at all. Messy. Rushed. Gentle. Slow. It went on and on like this, for Hades knows how long. 

When they finally broke apart, Eddie couldn’t help but smile like an idiot. “I hope that was real enough for you.”

Richie laughed, stroking his cheek. “I don’t know. We might need to do that again. Just so I can be sure.”

“As long as it’s for research purposes,” Eddie said, as he leaned in again. 

“_Excuse me_,” someone said, through the microphone. His voice boomed around the bar. “You’re interrupting my performance.”

As if on cue, the music stopped. 

Richie groaned. “Oh, fuck off, Orpheus.”

Eddie had been so busy being alive—_being with Richie_—that he hadn’t noticed how everyone else in the bar was frozen. 

He also hadn’t noticed the tall man in the suit who was smirking at them. 

Eddie made a note to tell Richie later that Orpheus was at least ‘_30_ Brazilian soccer players wrapped into one’ kinds-of-hot. 

He’d never tell Bev, that, of course. 

But _damn_. Eurydice knew how to pick them. 

_Eurydice!_

Eddie turned back to the door, but it wasn’t there anymore. His heart sank. He'd made it out of the Underworld because Richie trusted him. Believed that he was there the whole time. 

He took a leap of faith that Orpheus hadn’t been able to make. 

That no one else ever had. 

Eddie was alive again.

But Eurydice was still stuck back there. 

“You look a little sad,” came a voice from behind him. “Can I get ya something to help with that?”

He turned to find a familiar face behind the bar. And, just like in the cavern, being around Eurydice made Eddie feel better. Any regret that lingered in his heart faded away as she smiled at him, filling a few shot glasses with the cheapest vodka in the place. 

_Oh, shit._

Eddie groaned. He’d _just_ gotten his esophagus back and now he was gonna burn the hell out of it. 

Richie moved next to him, grabbing Eddie’s hand. Eddie’s heart raced as he laced his fingers through Richie’s. He wished they’d done this a million times before when he was alive the first time. 

It felt right. 

It felt like _home_. 

Richie smiled at him, and Eddie knew that, although he’d only been alive again for a few minutes, he’d already seen the most beautiful thing in the world. 

Richie kissed Eddie lightly on the cheek, which made Eddie’s blush burn brighter. Richie pulled Eddie closer as he turned to the bartender. “I’m guessing you’re Eurydice.”

She smiled at him. “Nice to meet you, _dumbass_.”

Behind them, Orpheus lost it. He was laughing so hard that he dropped the mic. 

Richie pushed his glasses up the ridge of his nose. “Did she just call me a dumbass?” 

Eddie laughed, squeezing Richie’s hand. “If it makes you feel any better, she called me one, too.”

“I call them like I see them,” Eurydice said, winking at them. She nodded over to Orpheus. “He’s a dumbass, too.”

Orpheus shrugged. “She’s right about that one.”

Eurydice brought shots over to them. Richie watched skeptically as Eddie held the small glass in his hands. 

“Uh, Eds, you sure you wanna drink that?”

“What’s the worst it could do? _Kill me_?” Eddie asked, throwing it back. He was, perhaps, a little too pumped about being alive again that he didn’t think about the repercussions too hard before he tried to look cool. 

He instantly regretted trying to look cool. 

It burned and it tasted awful and how in the hell could Richie have so many of these it was so fucking horrible? 

Worse than existing but not having anywhere to exist in. 

Richie sighed, holding Eddie’s hand a little bit tighter. “Can we hold off on the ‘Eddie could die’ jokes for, oh I don’t know, _ever_?”

“Too soon?” Eddie asked. 

“It’ll always be too soon,” Richie replied. 

“No more, then,” Eddie said, kissing Richie on the cheek. “Promise.”

Richie turned to face him. “That’s not what your mom said last night when I—”

Eurydice cleared her throat, handing Eddie another shot, cutting Richie’s joke off. “You were supposed to wait for all of us to do it with you.”

_Oh, shit._

He _finally_ fucked it up. 

Eddie had to take the shot again. 

“Uhh, sorry,” he said, holding the second shot. 

Richie leaned in close as Eurydice went over to Orpheus. “I’ll drink it for you, if you don’t want to do it again.”

“Oh, thank god,” Eddie said, ready to propose to his best friend right on the spot. “That shit’s horrible. How the fuck do you drink it?”

Richie smiled. “Well, Eddie Spaghetti, you’re not really supposed to think about it too much.”

“Not thinking too much? Sounds like classic Trashmouth to me.”

“A toast,” Orpheus said, his voice way closer than it was before. 

Eddie turned. Orpheus and Eurydice were standing next to them. He just hadn’t noticed because he couldn’t stop looking at Richie. 

His best friend. His favorite Loser. And the most badass motherfucker that he knew. 

“A toast,” Orpheus tried again, clearing his throat. Eddie made sure to grab Richie’s hand before he looked away. And, as he did so, Orpheus smiled at Eddie, raising his shot glass. “To the only two idiots who were able to make it through the Underworld.”

“_Together_,” Eurydice said. 

Orpheus wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “And the only reason we’re able to be here. _Together_,” the musician added. 

Eddie looked at Eurydice. “You didn’t tell me that was part of the deal.”

She shrugged, a small bit of red coloring her cheeks. “I didn’t want to put any pressure on you. I knew how bad it was for you, and I didn’t want to make it worse.” She smiled at both of them. “Besides, I knew you’d make it out. I knew you’d change things.”

“Huh,” Orpheus said. “Well, I’m glad _she_ believed in you.” He looked at Richie. “I was fifty-fifty on you.”

“Hey, _asshole_,” Richie said, putting his shot down before he could drink it. “I still owe you a punch, right in your smug little face.”

Eddie’s eyes widened as he held his best friend back. “Rich, maybe you _shouldn’t_ punch the immortal being who’s trying to honor us with a toast.”

“This _motherfucker_ didn’t tell me what I was getting into,” Richie said, almost breaking free of Eddie’s grasp. 

Orpheus shrugged. “Not my choice. You met Hades. You know how he is.”

“I do. And if I ever see him again, I’ll punch him, too.”

Eddie tossed his shot back so that he could hold onto Richie with both hands. 

_Fuck_. It burned so bad. 

But he could _feel_ it burning, and that wasn’t nothing. He was here, alive, with Richie. 

It’d all been real. 

And Richie was _really_ about to punch Orpheus. 

Eddie grabbed Richie’s waist, dragging him back a few feet. Richie jumped a bit at the touch, but then fell limply into Eddie’s arms. 

“Oh!” Eddie said, awkwardly holding up a man who was a bit taller than he was. His eyes widened as he looked up at Eurydice. “Did I just break him?”

She exchanged a glance with Orpheus. And then they laughed. “I think you two need some time to be alone.”

Eddie nodded. “Right back at ya.” He shifted his weight a little to account for Richie, who was still nearly catatonic in his arms. “Ummm… thank you, by the way.”

Eurydice shook her head. “No, thank _you_.”

Eddie gave her a small smile, and then he dragged Richie’s ass out of the bar. He dug around in Richie’s pockets, finally finding his keys. 

He paused for a moment, wondering if those keys were in his pocket the whole time. What if he’d lost them in the Underworld?

_Could_ he lose car keys in the Underworld?

Eddie sighed. It was a mystery for another day. He hauled Richie around the parking lot as he tried to find his best friend’s car. 

“This is why I called you dramatic,” Eddie grumbled, sweat—_sweat!_—beading on his forehead from the effort. “I touched your waist _one time_ and all of a sudden you astrally project into another dimension. And where the _actual fuck_ did you park, Richie Tozier?” Eddie asked, with all the love in his heart. 

Richie didn’t respond. Eddie kept hitting the lock button, wandering in the direction of the car’s weak beeps. 

He didn’t want to hit the car’s alarm. He hadn’t heard one of those in years. He really wanted to keep it that way. 

Eddie smirked, only hitting the lock button in pairs, so that a soft _Beep, beep_ filled the cool night air around them. 

_Beep beep_. 

_Beep beep_. 

Finally, he found it. 

And he nearly dropped Richie when he did. 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” he said, once he stood in front of his best friend’s car. 

It was a Prius. 

Eddie remembered the flashy fucking car Richie rented when he drove to Derry. He was expecting something like that. 

Not a practical fucking Prius. 

He shook his head, dragging Richie over to the passenger’s side. He hesitated as he buckled him in. 

The only time he’d seen Richie like this before was when he looked into the Deadlights. 

Eddie died saving him from them. 

Eddie died, and Richie lived, and both of their worlds collapsed.

But that was then. And this was now. 

Deadlights weren’t the problem. 

Eddie stroked Richie’s hair, an ache coursing through his body that he hadn’t felt since he was alive the first time. He leaned in close to Richie’s face, planting a gentle kiss on his lips. 

And that was enough to snap his best friend out of it. 

“Hands… waist…” was all Richie was able to get out. “_Oh, shit_,” he said, meeting Eddie’s gaze. 

Eddie laughed, shaking his head. “Is that a good ‘oh, shit?’ Or an “'I should go back into the bar and start singing with Orpheus’ oh, shit?”

“You’d never be able to get the mic away from him,” Richie said. And then he moved, trying to get out of his Prius, but was yanked back by the seatbelt. “Fuck. Let me out of this thing. I’m driving.”

“Dude, you were just spaced out for a good ten minutes.”

“And _you_ just came back from the dead and did two shots with Orpheus and Eurydice, you absolute madman! I’m fine, I promise. I can drive.”

Eddie chuckled. “Okay. Where do you want to go?”

“Well, I figured I could take you on a driving tour of LA. Show you where I go to cry each day of the week,” Richie deadpanned. “It’s like 2 AM, Loser. And I just dragged your ass out of the Underworld. Where do you _think_ we’re going?”

“Home?” Eddie said, relieved at how the word finally felt _right_. How _real_ it was. 

“Home,” Richie replied. “And then _tomorrow_ I’ll show you all the best places to ugly cry in LA.”

Eddie shook his head as Richie finally freed himself from the passenger side of his Prius. He grabbed Richie’s arm before he could pass him, pulling him close for another kiss. 

Eddie was glad that Richie hadn’t taken that shot—he _really_ didn’t need to taste that vodka again. Not that it would have mattered. It didn’t take long for the rest of the world to fall away as they pulled each other closer together, not daring to let the other go. 

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way. But, eventually, Richie broke free. 

“Edward Kaspbrak, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Eddie smiled at him. “No. But I _have_ kissed _your mother_ with this mouth.”

“Grossssssss,” Richie said. “Good thing I’ve got therapy in a couple of days. Lot of stuff to unpack there.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, heading to the passenger seat. “Yeah, you can start with why you got a Prius.”

“It’s the safest car,” Richie said, closing the door gently behind Eddie. “Or, at least, that’s what the internet said.”

Eddie’s breath caught. _He wanted to be safe_. 

Eddie grabbed Richie’s hand, kissing the top of it. Richie inhaled sharply. 

“Sorry,” Richie said, blushing. “Not sure if I’ll ever get used to this.”

“That’s an understatement,” Eddie said. “But I’m glad we’ll try get to used to it together. In your _safe little Prius_.”

“You’ve gotta let the car thing go, Eds.”

Eddie kissed the top of Richie’s hand again. “Oh, come on, you were actually _listening_ to me all those times I complained about your damn rental in Derry.”

Richie leaned in close, _so close_, that his breath was hot on Eddie’s ear. “I was _always_ listening to you, Eds. Even when I couldn’t hear you.”

Tears pooled in Eddie’s eyes, falling down his face faster than he could blink them away. “I never told you what my biggest fear was,” Eddie said. He was terrified to tell him. To confess. But Richie had shared his. It was the right thing to do.

Eddie turned, looking into his best friend’s eyes as tears started to blur his vision. “I don’t think I’ll ever be enough for you, Rich. But I want to be.”

Richie leaned over, wiping away at Eddie’s tears. “Eurydice was right,” Richie said, giving Eddie a light kiss on the cheek as he started crying, too. “You’re such a _dumbass_, Eds. You were enough the first day we met. You always have been. You always will be.”

Eddie had been crying softly before. But now, at this—at knowing that Richie always knew he was enough—all of the emotions he’d been holding back for so long came rushing forward. 

They sat there for a long time, crying, reassuring each other. 

And just… _existing_ together. In a place they were always meant to exist. 

Richie grabbed Eddie’s hand. “Hey, Eds? You ready to go home?”

Eddie nodded. He’d finally run out of tears for the night. His eyes were sore, and his back hurt a bit from sitting in the Prius for so long, but it didn’t matter. 

For the first time in either of his lives, Eddie Kaspbrak wasn’t worried. Because he knew that, as long as he was with Richie, nothing would be able to hurt him again. 

Richie flew by the bar, flipping it off as ‘Believe’ was still blasting inside of it. 

“God, Orpheus really loves that song, doesn’t he?” Eddie asked, smiling. He could hear Orpheus, loud and clear. But there was a second voice joining him. A familiar hum that he’d heard in the Underworld. 

“I hate to admit it, but it’s kinda catchy,” Richie replied. “You know… if you happen to… BELIEVEEEEEE IN LIFE AFTER LOVE—”

“AFTER LOVE, AFTER LOVE, AFTER LOVE,” Eddie echoed, screaming the lyrics until his voice went hoarse.

They sang the song all the way home. Eddie stared at Richie the whole time.

He was helplessly, wonderfully, _terrifyingly_—in love.

******

One week after Eddie had been brought back from the Underworld, Mike was at their door, welcoming him back. Two weeks after that, Bill spent five days with them—and he had them explain everything that happened at least three times before any of it could _actually_ sink in.

A month after Eddie had been brought back from the Underworld, Ben and Bev came to visit. They all sat together in Richie and Eddie’s living room, as Bev and Ben listened to them near the end of their story. 

Eddie found that, with the exception of Bill, it was relatively easy to get everyone to believe that what they went through was real. Eddie supposed it was hard for their friends to think they were bullshitting them when he was the one serving them tea or giving them a spare towel. 

The other Losers wanted to visit immediately after Eddie returned. But they also wanted to give him and Richie some time to be alone. 

Eddie loved his friends for that. 

But he was also glad that Ben and Bev had finally sailed down from Seattle. 

Richie had been right, in the Underworld. Bev high-fived them as soon as she walked through the door. 

That was a few hours ago. And then they launched into the tale of their Epic Underworld Quest as soon as Bev and Ben were settled in. 

“—and I couldn’t tell him I was a shade the whole time,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “I was so scared I’d fuck it up.”

“_You_ were scared?” Richie said, pulling him closer. “I was the one who couldn’t turn around. Do you know how much pressure I was under, up there?”

“I do,” Eddie replied, memorizing his best friend’s face. “But I always knew you could do it. Even if Orpheus was fifty-fifty on you.”

“Fuck that guy,” Richie said, tensing slightly. Eddie grabbed Richie’s hand, rubbing circles on the back of it. He learned pretty quickly that it was a good way to help him relax. 

Richie sighed. “You should’ve let me punch him, Eds.”

“Next time, he’s all yours,” Eddie said, smiling. 

Bev and Ben exchanged a glance. 

“What?” Eddie asked. 

Before either of them could reply, a small Pomeranian jumped into Bev’s lap. 

“_Cerebus_, we’ve had this conversation before,” Richie said, trying to shoo the dog away. “It’s rude to jump on guests before we’ve finished telling our epic story.”

“Especially when we’re so close to the end,” Eddie added. 

Their dog gave them a _hmph_ in response, but he sat down on the floor next to Bev, waiting patiently for them to wrap it up. 

Eddie cleared his throat, squeezing Richie’s hand. “Right. So, Richie was standing at the door, when—”

A knock sounded from the other side of _their_ door, cutting him off. Eddie exchanged a confused glance with Richie before he got up to answer it. Richie followed, grabbing Eddie’s hand as he stood behind him. 

“Hello?” Eddie called, standing at the door, but not opening it yet. “Who is it?”

_Who is it? Jesus, Eds, that’s some A+ detective work, there._

“Edward Kaspbrak,” said a muffled voice from the other side. “Please let me in.”

He turned to Richie. “Were you expecting anyone?”

“No, dumbass. I would’ve told you.”

“Richard Trashmouth Tozier,” the voice called again. “I was sent here by a mutual friend. I mean you no harm.”

Richie groaned. “That’s _still_ not my middle name.”

Eddie cleared his throat. “Usually people who say ‘I mean you no harm,’ don't really mean it,” he said, backing away from the door. 

“_Mortals_,” the voice said. It was in the same slightly annoyed, slightly amused tone that Eurydice had used. But whoever was behind their door, it wasn’t her. 

Eddie had never heard this voice before. 

“Very well,” the voice on the other side of the door said. “I’ll just do it myself.”

And then their door was ripped right off its hinges. 

Eddie’s eyes widened, but he lost his ability to speak. A woman stood in front of them, a solemn expression on her face.

_She just destroyed their fucking door—_

“Awww, damnit. Thanks a lot, lady,” Richie whined, pulling Eddie away from the door. “Now Ben has to fix that.”

Somewhere behind them, Ben choked on his drink. 

The woman stepped into their apartment. She was probably somewhere between Eddie’s age and Eurydice’s. Well, appearance-wise. In _actual immortal years_, he wasn’t really sure. 

Unlike Eurydice, their new visitor didn’t have any combat boots. Instead, she wore a dark green tunic that flattered her olive skin, dark jeans, and gray flats that matched the color of her eyes. Her dark hair was held back in a braid that was woven with golden thread. 

“I need your help,” she said, taking another step closer to them. Her voice was filled with a fiery intensity that Eddie wasn’t able to place. And her eyes… it always looked like she was carefully calculating what she wanted to say next. 

“Ah, sorry,” Richie said, backing away from her and taking Eddie with him. “We’re retired from the Underworld game.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “I do not wish to send you to the Underworld. What I need requires you to stay here. In _your_ world.”

Cerebus ran up to her, sitting at her feet. 

_You little shit_, Eddie thought, proudly.

“Traitor,” Richie said, lobbing the insult at their dog.

Cerebus titled his head in response. 

The woman knelt down, scratching Cerebus on the top of his head before she looked up at them. “What you did in the Underworld… it changed things. It made… ah. Well, I won’t bore you with the details, but things are possible now that weren’t before.”

“Like what?” Eddie asked, still trying to figure out who the fuck she was. It was one the tip of his tongue. But it was lost, somewhere. 

“Like this conversation,” she said, frankly. “I need your help.”

“We heard you the first time,” Richie said. 

Eddie elbowed him in the ribs. “Are you gonna try to start a fight with _every immortal being_ that crosses our path?”

“If I have to,” he grumbled.

“You don’t understand,” the woman continued, as if they hadn’t just bickered in front of her like two dumbass thirteen-year-olds. “I need _all_ of your help.”

She cast a pointed look in Ben and Bev’s direction. 

Ben’s mouth hung open. Bev tossed back her drink.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” the woman said, crossing by Richie and Eddie as she settled down on the couch. “Let’s begin.”

Richie and Eddie looked at each other. 

“Oh, shit?” Richie asked. 

Eddie sighed. “Oh, shit.”

They walked back over to the couches, where the woman had already started briefing Bev and Ben on her… _issue_. 

Richie led the way, looking back at Eddie the whole time. 

And Eddie… well. 

Eddie never let go of Richie’s hand.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking of expanding this into a series where different greek gods/mythological figures start sending Richie and Eddie on adventures, because the thought of them being reluctant greek heroes fills me with lots of joy! Let me know if this is something that would be interesting :D
> 
> EDIT: Thanks for all the support and enthusiasm, y'all! A series is definitely in the works now! YAY! <3


End file.
